Dancing With Kadafi
by lambdastorm
Summary: It's a wonder as to why the sky possess such magic to the blue pegasus. When he's depressed, he'd fly, when he feels miserable, he'd fly; When he is but in any mood, he flies. Yet unbeknownst to him, distraction from a certain mare proves even mightier than the heavenly horizon, leaving the happy-go-lucky stallion extremely sappy and vulnerable.


Three.

Wind gently ruffled his mane, itching him more every second passed. He uncomfortably shifted position, trying to ignore the tickle but to no avail. As a relief, he turned to look at the sky.

It's a wonder as to why the sky possess such magic to the blue pegasus. When he's depressed, he'd fly, when he felt miserable, he'd fly; when happiness burst from the inside of his heart, he'd fly. When he is but in any mood, he flies. Flying has become inseparable to him for years, and not without a single day can he live without feeling the cool breeze. Sometimes illness takes him away from such grandeur normal day event, the following terrible feelings scrunching his stomach would quickly turn out no better than daggers.

Two.

To him, soaring high upon the sky is one of the best moment he cherishes, no thoughts behind, no disturbance around, no hard times ahead, the only thing he needs to do is to spread his wings wide and pride, embracing the soothing cool breeze from the unlimited blue paradise where he lost himself right in. He still remembers that time when he got his name from his parents, in all of a sudden, he jumped straight into the air, wings flared open in utter delight-he couldn't withhold his enthusiasm-the name fits him so perfectly. He is, after all, born for the sky, just like her.

One.

He turned to see the wingmare beside, her delicate figure hardly distinguishable from a solid fiery blur. Wind blows her mane loose and messy, if not somewhat sexy to him. They'd been best friends since Flying Academy. And as expected, he found it hard to live without her ever since, she's fire, a fire kindling his heart, urging him to move on whenever he felt gloomy or depressed. When he's with her, time literally flies, a day's never been so short when the mare's around. In all of a sudden, the sun's below horizon. And then he would trot towards the locking room neck to neck with her, pack his gears and happily return to their sweet home.

Watch ouuuuuuut!

All Soarin's thoughts were interrupted at this moment. Reluctantly, the muscular stallion snapped back into reality when the sudden realization hit him like a train-he's completely missed zero. And now, with such a great velocity it's already too late to take action. Being a senior Wonderbolt member specializing in aerodynamics and acrobatics only worsened the matter-he already knew fully well what's going on based on his wonderbolt instinct, things he learned in school ultimately turned out useful as he made a brief calculation in a millisecond, the result only enforced that belief:

If he remained this dangerously upright diving posture for one more second, he would crash right into the podium ahead. Judging from the speed, it's pretty much impossible to survive.

All the impossibilities aside, there's still a weak light gleaming in Soarin's mind. He is, after all, a wonderbolt, a soldier born for the highest standard. He'd fought to meet the wonderbolt criteria for years, he's endured so much pain he himself couldn't even remember, he's flown for innumerable miles only for this enticing moment. Four hooves off the ground and there's nothing he can't do. He's Soarin the wonderbolt, and he's not going to let a single distraction devastate his entire career, Never. Mustering all his strength and courage, he stroke a powerful wing beat, one that's distinctive of the wonderbolts, showing off all the training he had for years, indicating ultimate will and determination. Wind blasted behind him, flames climbed up to his belly, leaving him with a burning sensation in stomach. He couldn't tell if it's pain or strain. For so many years of practice he'd already grown immune to pain, under those fully developed muscles are innumerable healed wounds, companioned by new ones from time to time;he'd also forgotten what strain felt like for a time longer than he could recall, over 100 shows a year had already made him too dumb to react to those blastful cheers burst from the podium below, he couldn't even tell if there's any difference between flying alone and during shows. He'd literally overcame everything that could affect his flying routine, so why are these strange feelings still lingering around? If it isn't fear, strain, pain or whatever then what else can it be?

He tried his best to ignore the uncomfortable feeling now growling inside. Bank to the left, Now, he thought to himself, wings fully extended. Everything seems promising again in a way only veteran wonderbolts can understand:he's slowly converting his vertical speed to a horizontal one, that powerful wing beat he made earlier might just save him lots of trouble.

Little did Soarin know, rippling inside his stomach was his wonderbolt instinct, the one he'd joked with his wingmates for ages.

On the podium, Massive cheers and applause are now turning into screams and shrieks of excitement. Hundreds of thousands of ponies watched in awe as the co-captain of the wonderbolts dashed down in a speed most pegasi can only dream of. Rumours say that the wonderbolt has been planning for a new stunt for decades yet they all kept it as a secret. Gossips from the few Manehattan bigmouths only strengthened those awe-struck viewers' belief." Gossip confirmed! They're doing a new trick!Manehattan citizens, behold! We'll be the first to see the wonderbolts' new stunt!" Somepony Soarin couldn't make out was already yelling like mad, hundreds of thousands of faces greeted him with beams. He couldn't help but smile back at the thought of these silly audiences, mistaking his temporary passing out for something new and original.

Before he even had time to react, though, something shiny met his eyes, blinding him completely. He lost control in all of a sudden, fumbling for balance. From the podium far away, shrieks of excitement suddenly turned into yells and cries of shock. No matter how inexperienced a pony is at flying, right now even an earth pony can tell something's happening. His highly abnormal curves, his ungraceful posture, his shutting eyes.

Emergency!

Somepony yelled from below, realization soon hit the crowd as they quickly moved away from the stadium, exchanging yelps of astonishment and forced himself to open up his eyes, still dazzled by the shining object he saw not long ago, he forcefully pushed his eyelids open, only to be met with the hollow, unpolished ground mere inches away.

He'd escaped more hazardous situation than he could recall, his wonderbolt instinct and skill always guided him to safety. But only this time, both his body and his mind knew he's not going to make it.

He knew this all too well. Wonderbolts were his childhood heroes, he's mind would turn blank whenever he thought about them, their composed attitude, their daring feats, their graceful features. Instead, his parents always drift him from the Wonderbolts as far away as possible, It's too dangerous to be a wonderbolt, we won't risk our son's life only to pursue such stupid dreams was all he could recall. He laughed at that, sighing at the same time he'd miss another all too awesome show. A decade later, when he's recruited, other members from the wonderbolts told him to keep pushing his limits to the last bit. What he forgot, though, was that they also warned him about the risk of being a wonderbolt and the extremely high casualty performing these stunning tricks. As he made his way to the ground at an uncontrollable speed, the words he used to laugh about every time suddenly sprang to life, echoing in his ears with unparalleled clarity and precision. He's doomed. With even the closet wingpony far behind, he's all but doomed.

In all of a sudden, he heard something, presumably the ferocious wind furling around. He didn't pay attention though. Right at this moment, he's too dumbstruck to notice anything. Sweat coated his mane, wetting him as if he's in shower. Time seemed to come to a halt as all thoughts gushed into his head. He'd tell his parents he loved them if he still has the chance;he'd tell his teammates not to lose themselves in thoughts when performing aerial tricks. And at last, when his trivial thoughts drifted to her, his heart screeched, the mare he cares about, the mare lived side by side with him ever since he's a little filly, the mare who'd cheer him up every time he's upset and share his passion every time he's happy, can't even hear him bid a single farewell to her. And quite presumably, she would never know he kind of had a crush on her, a secret he'd been keeping for ages.

The sound became louder as his nerves automatically blocked it out for good. Maybe he's speeding up to break the sound barrier, maybe one mare he met at the gala with the name he'd already forgotten shot an awesome sonic rainboom right on his head to cheer for his upcoming death so she could easily replace him. Judging from her spectacular skill and unbelievable speed, she's gonna climb the rank quite fast once she takes her root to the wonderbolts. A silent tear rolled down the blue stallion's face. He's lost, he's defeated, he's doomed. In all of a sudden, he thought of it as a punishment, a punishment of his own wandering mind, a punishment for not focusing on the matters at hoof, a punishment for not thinking straight before joining the wonderbolts. It's all his fault. He shouldn't even have been born. Nothing would change if he's not born in the first place. A randomer would be taking his place right now as the co-captain and of course he's not going to let such a silly mistake-if it can even be called a mistake, take all his life and career away. He shut his eyes as ground approached him, ready to accept his fate.

The sound above him was drawing incredibly close, turning completely into a mighty explosion in the end. He didn't care anyway. Right now his nose hurts like mad, he took the hint as the first part of his body hit the ground and his whole body's going to be smashed into a pie ball in a millisecond.

"Booooooooooooom"

Both the timer in his brain and the sound above him exploded. He's about to die, he's about to go to heaven, he's about to join his grandparents there. Thinking of this made him relieve a bit: At least he had both his grandparents to talk to. His grandma, a gracious gray earth mare, spent all her life in laboratories doing research and all sorts of stuff he himself as a filly couldn't understand or even imagine. Ever since he was small, she made her appearance only once in a blue moon. And whenever he asked for an explanation,"For science"was all she managed to say. The answer, though brief, was full of energy and emotion. Oftentimes he would turn to see her straight in her magenta eyes. He could see the passion burning in them, the passion for something he couldn't yet comprehend, something he didn't understand in the tiniest little bit. A thousand questions clouded his mind, making him wriggle in discomfort, but all he managed was a goofy smile at last. A smile that can melt any grandparent's heart, making their whole life worthwhile. Her grandma was always caring when she's alive, he enjoyed her company to bits whenever she had time to spare until sometimes later he encountered an orange, fiery maned... A punch made its way straight into his head, leaving him dazed and ditsy. This is it. Before his thoughts finished its due procedure he's already stricken unconscious. This is it, life is about to come to an end when blood makes its way out of his body. This is it, the silliest wonderbolt crash ever in existence. He'd heard about wonderbolts sacrificed themselves in battles, pure hatred in their eyes, squeezing the last bit of energy to fight their enemies. He'd heard of wonderbolts lost their lives at a fire emergency in Manehattan, ignoring the big fire covering the whole city, rushing in and out of houses with powerful wing beats, two or three earth ponies tugged in their chest each time. Two of them died in brutal fire, at the cost of almost two hundred fillies and innumerable not-yet-grown-up school mares. But he'd never heard of a single wonderbolt fail or crash at the performance, not to mention die straight in front of the podium, in front of so many wondering eyes and fastening breathes, in front of the biggest city where the fiercest competition take place-Manehatten.


End file.
